


winter

by bombshellbrunette



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, F/M, First Time, Rough Sex, Spoilers through Chapter 17
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-09-30 14:51:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20448920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bombshellbrunette/pseuds/bombshellbrunette
Summary: The nights were colder than they had been before.(Or, Byleth and Dimitri find each other under the watchful eyes of the saint statues.)





	1. winter

**Author's Note:**

> HELLO ALL!!! i fell in love with dimileth and left the country so that's what i've been working on. i love fe3h and this ship specifically so fucking much and i was so hype to write something so obviously the first thing i did was write dimileth smut bc. yeah  
i have several other fe3h fics in the works so look out for that, and follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/bombshellbrune) for updates on my fics, life, obsessions, etc.

The nights were colder than they had been before.

During that fateful year, which had given Byleth the universe and then ripped it away from her, she’d often taken walks in the evening wrapped up in her long coat, admiring the gentle dusting of snow on the rows of trees that surrounded the monastery. The air had buzzed with conversation—knights returning from their shifts, students rushing back from late-night sessions in the library—and the various pathways that snaked through the grounds felt full, despite having been deserted for the day.

These days it was freezing at night and the frost nipped at her skin, settling uncomfortably under her skin like a perennial shiver. Save for the rustlings of animals from outside and the stray dogs and cats that wandered throughout the monastery, it was silent—the students had long since gone, and the knights were scattered across the country, no longer returning to their cabins after a long day of patrol.

_It hurts_, thought Byleth, rushing over the deserted bridge to where the cathedral lay on the other side. She ached with the empty space of it all in a way that she hadn’t realized was possible; the solemn monastery squeezed at her unmoving heart and climbed into her throat like they wanted to choke her. _Why does it hurt so badly?_

The arrival of Lord Rodrigue had elicited an almost favorable reaction at first, but his advice that they not take Enbarr had blackened Dimitri’s mood. The exiled king had stormed out of the room, undoubtedly headed towards the cathedral, much to Byleth’s dismay.

Going to see him was pointless—he barely acknowledged that she existed anymore even when she spoke directly to him—so Byleth channeled her frustration into training, sparring with Ingrid and Sylvain until her muscles protested even the slightest movement. Her partners had shot her concerned looks throughout, but Byleth couldn’t bring herself to care that she was showing too much emotion than was appropriate. If Dimitri couldn’t, then she would have to.

After exchanging tense goodbyes with her former students, Byleth had returned to her room, but as she lay in bed trying to sleep she couldn’t stop imagining Dimitri pacing, alone, in the empty cathedral. It didn’t surprise her that it was there that he chose to spend his time, but it saddened her all the same. Once, like everywhere else, the cathedral had been full of dutiful worshippers, but these days even Marianne wouldn’t step foot in the dilapidated building. Byleth didn’t blame her—it was no longer a place for the living, but for the greedy ghosts of the past. 

Unlike usual, though, the thoughts did not eventually give way to sleep. Byleth had stared at the ceiling for minutes—or hours?—before she’d stepped out of bed and threw on a cloak. It was a bad idea, no doubt, and Dimitri certainly wouldn’t be pleased to see her, but still Byleth trekked from her quarters to the cathedral, cloak draped over her aching body as she hurried along the road. And presently, cheeks red from the cold air and hair windswept, she stood in front of the cathedral’s grand doors.

With a deep, shuddering breath, Byleth pushed the doors open and stepped out into the main room of the cathedral. It was mostly dark, but Dimitri’s tall silhouette was stark against the dim light filtering through the holes in the wall in front of him. His face was facing away from her, but his shoulders were hunched and rounded, and she could hear his voice faintly even from the entrance, too quiet to fully make out.

As she approached, the words became clearer. “Father,” came Dimitri’s low, repenting plea, “I’m so close to avenging you. Please—please just wait a little longer. Glenn… I will reclaim the life that was stolen from you, I just need a little more time. I’m so sorry, I—”

Unable to listen to the man she loved’s self flagellation any longer, Byleth strode to his side, deliberately letting her shoes clatter against the cobbled floor. Dimitri swiveled around, hair wild and lips curled into a deep, foreboding frown. 

“What are you doing here?” he hissed, staring down at her. The height difference between them had already been substantial even five years ago, but now he towered over her, broad shoulders looming in the dimly lit room. He wasn’t intimidating, though—if anything, his glower reassured her that he was lucid enough to acknowledge her presence.

“I know you must be upset,” she started carefully, “but I wanted to tell you that, regardless of what the others say, I will follow your orders. I want to help you, Dimitri.” Placing a reassuring hand on his forearm, she brushed her thumb over the crook of his elbow. “I didn’t think—”

“You know nothing,” he interrupted, eyes flashing as he shoved her back against the crumbling wall. His nails dug into her arm, squeezing, but she didn’t wince. It didn’t matter how painful it was—if Dimitri needed her to do this for him then she would, no questions asked. “I should’ve anticipated that you would plan something with Rodrigue. Old friend or not, he’s too manipulative for his own good. At least the two of you have that in common.”

Byleth reached out and cupped his cheeks in her hands. His skin was ice-cold and trembling under her fingertips, though with rage or something else she was unsure. “I do know what you want, and I feel it, too,” she said. “I promise I’m not trying to manipulate you. But I also know that to get to the heart of the Empire you need to actually work with us. Attacking Enbarr head on is risky, Dimitri—too risky. Lord Rodrigue is right; if we charge in like that, we could sustain heavy losses.”

Dimitri’s eyes flashed, and he grabbed her wrists from his face, pinning them above her head with one hand. “I don’t care what happens as long as I can keep moving,” he snarled, gripping her chin with the other. “I can’t prolong this miserable waiting any longer, _professor_. I must kill Edelgard.”

“I’ll support you no matter what decision you make, _Your Majesty_,” she said, unflinching even as he stared her down. “But if you march us into Enbarr, her troops will be lying in wait. And once they find out you’re alive, news will travel quickly. If Edelgard has time to prepare, we have no idea what she’s capable of unleashing upon us—upon you.”

Scoffing, Dimitri stepped closer. His grip on her face was tight, constricting, but feeling his skin on hers sent sick shivers down Byleth’s spine. “You all seem to want to protect Edelgard from the vengeance she deserves,” he spat, exposed eye narrowed into a slit. “If you think this is how to save me, you’re sorely mistaken—I cannot be saved. The only thought that brings me comfort is Edelgard’s head on a pike.”

“I have no desire to protect Edelgard whatsoever,” said Byleth honestly, relaxing in his hold. She had no desire to resist; there was no reason to be afraid, and she wasn’t. “Once, perhaps, I would have held reservations about facing the imperial army and even now I regret that I was unable to speak to Hubert five years ago. But Edelgard made her choices, and they were despicable. There is no excuse for her behavior, nor should there be, and it is precisely for that reason that we mustn’t play into her hands. Think, Dimitri—we cannot give her the advantage.”

Dimitri swallowed, adam’s apple bobbing. She’d caught him off guard, obviously—he was hesitating, eye drifting to where his hand was curled around her wrists to her determined gaze. “I will consider your plan,” he muttered, resigned as if he’d tired of the argument suddenly. “Is that all, or is there something else have you come to tell me?”

“That is all,” said Byleth. She hesitated, then added, “And thank you, Dimitri.”

Dimitri didn’t react, but he released her, stepping backwards further into the cathedral. “Then go,” he said, making a vague gesture in the direction of the door. “You’ve made your case. Now leave me be.”

Byleth nodded, but she didn’t leave immediately. There was something strange about the way Dimitri was looking at her—he seemed to be on the precipice of something, feverish. “Are you—”

Something in the air snapped.

Closing the distance between them, Dimitri grabbed her by the shoulders and kissed her. It was firm and hot and his lips were insistent against hers, fingers digging into the tender skin of her arm. Byleth was stuck in place—completely frozen—until he pulled away, wiping his mouth off on his sleeve.

“Get out,” he growled, stumbling backward. He looked terrified, though whether by her reaction or his own it wasn’t clear.

As if a switch had been turned on, Byleth was struck by the realization that if she didn’t say anything, whatever had just happened would be meaningless. “Dimitri,” she whispered at last, fingers brushing over her lips, “did you just—?”

There was something different about him now, in the frantic twitching of his hands by his sides. It was like a dam breaking down—the wooden support had come loose, and the water came rushing out all at once. “Leave me alone,” he tried, but the words were garbled, distorted by the dryness of his throat. “Please, _just go_.”

Byleth took a step forward. “Dimitri,” she said softly, reaching up to lace her arms around his neck. “Will you do it again?”

Silence fell upon the room. Dimitri’s hands stilled, and he sucked in a breath. “What?” he asked, voice hoarse and fraught with disbelief. 

“Will you kiss me again?” Byleth repeated. Unlike his face, his body radiated heat, and it bled into hers through their clothes. It was nice, having Dimitri so near—it filled a void she hadn’t even realized was empty.

In lieu of waiting for an answer, Byleth pulled him down and kissed him. It was chaste—close mouthed and warm, comfortable—and Dimitri immediately reciprocated, so Byleth shut her eyes as she leaned into him, drinking in his natural heat. 

“This isn’t—are you,” he started, still so close that their breath mingled. “You’re not—”  
  
“I wanted to,” said Byleth, before he could come to any conclusions on his own. “Dimitri, I wanted to.”

And then she kissed him again, mouth open, and they both stopped talking. This time, all thoughts of remaining chaste were tossed out the window; the place where their mouths met was hot and wet, and it felt so good to finally give in Byleth almost cried out for the relief of it all. Dimitri’s hands were splayed out at Byleth’s hips, nails leaving crescent shaped imprints on the bare skin between her shirt and shorts, and inching lower. Her cloak had long since fallen to the floor, a pool of cotton at their feet.

“Dimitri,” she murmured in between kisses, tipping her head back to reveal the long column of her throat, “please, please, please…”

Obligingly, Dimitri trailed his lips down her neck, sucking bruises into her skin as he made his way to the sharp ridge of her collarbone. One broad hand squeezed her ass through her shorts, the other tracing circles into her exposed navel, and Byleth sighed in contentment.

“Take it off,” said Dimitri, breath unsteady and warm against her neck. “I need—”

“Yes,” Byleth whimpered, and then he was pulling it over her head. His hands hesitated at her bra, but before she could provide instructions he was ripping it open, letting the garment fall in shreds at their feet. Byleth was vaguely annoyed by this, but she wasn’t particularly in the mood to lecture Dimitri about the importance of respecting women’s undergarments, so she just kissed him again, her bare nipples brushing against the armor he was somehow still wearing.

Byleth’s unoccupied hand shoved Dimitri’s furry cloak off his body, and then—freeing her hold on Dimitri’s hair—she pulled up his shirt, revealing the chest beneath. His skin was covered in crisscrossing scars and his stomach was tight-packed with muscle, firm and hot beneath her wandering palms.

Now that they were on equal footing, Dimitri’s arms scooped her up from under her thighs like she was weightless, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He was hard, bulge pressing against her inner thigh, and Byleth rocked forward to grind against him, eyes squeezed tightly shut.

“Fuck,” he growled. “Professor, don’t you dare stop.”  
  
“Byleth,” she reminded him breathily, though he hadn’t been there when she’d told his classmates, threading one hand in his hair and pushing his head down to her bare breasts. “Call me—ahh, call me Byleth.”

His tongue laved on one nipple, and Byleth sighed, moving her hips in slow circles against his. She’d taken other lovers in the past, during her and Jeralt’s journeys—women and men alike, who come for drinks in the taverns they’d frequented and stayed for Byleth—but nothing had inspired the same explosive chemistry as this.

“Byleth,” murmured Dimitri into her skin, finger circling her other nipple and tweaking the swollen peak, “you’re mine now. Only mine, from now on. Nobody’s even going to look at you and think that they could have you—not Ashe or Mercedes or Sylvain, or even Felix. They’re just going to see you and know that you’re mine.”

“And you’re mine,” she whispered, just as serious, nails digging into his taut shoulder blades. “No one else can have you, either. Not another person and not this godforsaken war. You’re mine.”

Dimitri grunted and, letting her down, grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the saint statues that stood deserted in the other room. “Put your hands against the statue,” he commanded, and she complied, arching the small of her back as she stared at the fractures in the brick.

Her shorts were pulled down, and then Dimitri’s finger was probing at her entrance, slipping into her wet heat. “You’re so wet,” he said, slightly awestruck. “Do you always get like this, Byleth?”

“Just for you,” exhaled Byleth, desperate, rolling back into his finger to get it deeper inside her. “Dimitri, hurry—I need it.”

Dimitri’s finger curled up, and then a second one joined, scissoring her pussy in tandem. A third—his thumb, Byleth realized—swiped over her clit, sending tremors down her unsteady legs. “Oh, goddess,” she gasped as his finger stroked a particularly sensitive part of her inner walls.

The fingers withdrew suddenly, and Byleth heard the faint rustling of fabric from behind her. A few seconds later, a thick, blunt head was pressing into her hole, filling her up exactly where she ached for him. He pushed forward until he bottomed out, hips pressed against her ass, and let out a choked groan.

Dimitri, head tipped back in pleasure, didn’t move. “You’re so tight,” he hissed through gritted teeth.

_He’s a virgin,_ realized Byleth as she watched him try to get his bearings. Of course he was. Of all Dimitri’s changes over the course of the past five years, promiscuity was not one of them—in reality, she doubted he’d been touched after hr fled prison prior to them meeting again. Still, there was something surprising in his innocence that made Byleth happy. For each and every one of Dimitri’s bad first experiences, she wanted to provide him with a good one to soothe the jagged holes they'd left in their wake.

"Profes—Byleth, it’s so…”

“Feels amazing for me, too,” Byleth said, still adjusting to the feel of a cock inside her after so long without. It was true—Dimitri was by far the girthiest partner she’d ever had, and his cock would undoubtedly make training the next day difficult, but as things stood it felt so good to finally be with him like this.

Slowly but surely, Dimitri began to pump his hips, trying to find a rhythm that suited them both. His hands found purchase on the soft curve of Byleth’s waist and his fingertips pressed patterns into her skin that would inevitably show up tomorrow morning under her clothing.

Reaching down to rub her clit, Byleth sped up the pace, rocking back into Dimitri’s cock. At her prompting Dimitri sped up, hips snapping into Byleth’s with the urgency and eagerness of his teenage self. They were moving in tandem now, Byleth leaning her ass against him and Dimitri sinking again and again into her heat, clinging to her body as if it were his lifeline.

“Dimitri,” Byleth breathed out, the words spilling out of mouth, “I need—ah, please—!”

Impatiently, Dimitri pushed her hand away from her clit and replaced it with his own. His thumb was so much bigger than hers, thick and rough and perfect as it traced sloppy circles into her sensitive nub. He rubbed at a frantic pace that matched the rapid snapping of his hips against her, one hand clutching her breast so hard it might have been painful if it didn’t feel so good.

“Professor,” grunted Dimitri, thumb quickening between them, “I’m getting close.”

“Me too,” she said, keening into his touch, “this feels—Dimitri, I love—“

Before she could finish what was inevitably spilling from her lips, her orgasm washed over and through her like a crashing wave, making her legs tremble and her blood boil with the force of it all. It’d been so long, for her—not since she’d fallen into the void, definitely, but even before then—and the pleasure was dizzying, shocking, frightening, wonderful.

Her pussy was tightening around Dimitri in a hot, wet vice, and he thrust into her oversensitive body instinctually, like he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to. “Professor,” he murmured, once, so quiet it sounded like a prayer, and then he pushed his cock deep inside her and let his own climax take hold of him.

His seed was hot as it spilled into her, and Byleth let out a ragged sigh, hips unmoving and legs resolutely firm so he could empty his load. No one else had ever finished inside of her—none of her lovers had gotten the opportunity, nor had she considered extending it to them.

That was for Dimitri, and for Dimitri alone.

“You’re mine now,” mumbled Dimitri, hands pressed against her flat belly. “No one—no one else can have you.”

“And you, mine,” she agreed, letting her eyes shut. 

When he pulled out, Byleth’s body felt the loss. An uncomfortable emptiness lingered in her abdomen even as come dripped down her inner thighs, running in rivulets to leave wet drops on the floor.

“Dress yourself,” said Dimitri, abruptly severe, after a moment. He’d done up his pants, and now that he was clothed there was distance between them again—both tangible and not. “It is late. Surely someone may have noticed your absence and now worries over your whereabouts.”

“Of course,” said Byleth, pushing away from the statue to stand up straight. Now that they were done, she realized just how worn out her body was, from both training and fucking. Beneath her, her legs quivered, and she stumbled trying to walk to the room’s entrance.

Dimitri frowned, considering, and then strode to her side. With one swoop he gathered her naked body in his arms, draped his thick cloak over her, and carried her into the main room. His chest was warm, his arms steady, and Byleth couldn’t help the yawn that came unbidden from her throat.

“Sleep,” she could hear Dimitri saying, voice muffled by her tired mind. “I will return you to my quarters.”

When she woke up, Dimitri was gone.

It was bright outside, and the sunlight was harsh—these days, it always seemed too bright for her, too intense to be pleasant.

Byleth stretched, wincing at the ache in her muscles, and wriggled out of the blanket that had been draped over her. She was wearing a white blouse that came to her knees, and the room was familiar, untouched save for the pile of clothing sitting on the nightstand.

_Dimitri really did take me to his quarters_, thought Byleth, bringing her knees to her chest.

Unclouded by lust and terror, Byleth’s mind was spinning. She hadn’t meant to lie with Dimitri but now she’d done it, and she was in his room, wearing his clothes, covered in markings that he’d laid upon her. Despite everything, though, she couldn’t bring herself to regret it. For the first time in such a long time, Dimitri had permitted himself to indulge—he’d felt her touch and enjoyed it, had used her body to satisfy himself—and that was perhaps worth whatever would ensue.

The door creaked, and Byleth’s eyes snapped up. Dimitri stood in the doorway, hulking, dark circles sloping beneath his eyes like valleys, but his gaze drank in the sight of her hungrily, tracing the edges and curves of her body before settling on her face.

Staring right back, Byleth smiled.


	2. thaw

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> at least three people wanted a sequel and then this fic hit 350 kudos so i said fuck it and decided to write one!!  
(i was kind and didn't upload the parody one that i wrote where dimitri tries to make scrambled eggs for byleth and burns down the entirety of garreg mach) (though maybe i should have)  
i hope everyone enjoys!!!

The air between them seemed to hold its breath, caught in an electric standstill.

“Good morning,” Byleth said after a few seconds of tense eye contact, searching for some kind of tell in Dimitri’s hesitant gaze. She didn’t regret their actions from the night before—on the contrary, the memories sent hot shivers down her spine—but there was no denying that their coupling complicated things. Things that, by Byleth’s estimation, were already rather complicated.

Dimitri nodded in vague acknowledgement but gave no sign that he intended to approach, tall frame hunched awkwardly in the doorway. There was a nervous energy about him—unconsciously, he was shifting on his feet, eye flitting between Byleth and the door.

Stomach sinking, Byleth tried again, “What time is it? I suppose—well, I hope we haven’t overslept horribly late.”

Dimitri turned his head to the side, profile sharp in the dimly lit room. "I collected your things," he said gruffly in lieu of response, jerking his chin in the direction of a pile of cloth on the ground. "I presume you intend to hold class even though it's pointless. I'm sure your students are awaiting you."

So he was pretending that nothing had happened, then. She hadn't known what she'd been expecting, but his reticence stung nonetheless. Still, he had a point—the sun had already risen, and surely the rest of her students were already up and about, waiting for Byleth to announce the beginning of class.

"Okay," she said, swinging her legs over the bed and slowly rising to her feet. Her body ached, thighs quivering, but Byleth refused to let herself wince in front of him. Without a second's pause, she began to undo the shirt's buttons, forcing down a victorious smile when Dimitri's face reddened and he averted his gaze to the ground. If he wasn't going to acknowledge what had come to pass between them verbally then so be it, but looking at his flushed face Byleth knew his body still bore the memories of their encounter, and she was glad for it. Once she was dressed, Byleth raked her fingers through her tangled hair and slung her cloak over her body, satchel in hand. "I'll be going," she said, and Dimitri lifted his head to look at her. "Excuse me, Dimitri."

Mouth twisted into an inexplicable frown, Dimitri stepped out of her way, and said nothing when she pushed through the door and out into the chilly air. His silence stung her more than his previous evasion had; it whispered cruel thoughts, warned that Dimitri would never be able to escape the ghosts of his past. That the living had nothing left to give him. The door closed behind Byleth with a loud thud and with dread in her stomach she pressed on toward the designated meeting room, banishing all thoughts of Dimitri to the corners of her mind until she had more time to think it over.

_Perhaps it's for the best this way, _she thought, walking down the corridor as briskly as she could. _Maybe if I just forget about it, it won't hurt anymore._

Though a turgid mass of guilt and worry churned in her stomach the whole way there, upon arriving at the classroom Byleth couldn't help but smile despite herself. Those who remained of the Blue Lions house were chattering amongst themselves, filling the air with the pleasant sounds of laughter and lighthearted banter. The monastery, in all its glory, depressed them all these days; rooms that had once been filled with people remained empty, and the dormitories that their classmates had once occupied were just as devoid of life, as if stuck in a state of suspended animation. Some of the other houses' students had made their way to Garreg Mach before Byleth had awoken, but there were still so many who—

"Ah, professor!" Sylvain called, thankfully disrupting that train of thought. "I see you've decided to join us! Did you have a fun night?"

Felix rolled his eyes and punched Sylvain's shoulder, eliciting a pained groan from his companion. "Stop implying things," he said, though his voice lacked its usual edge. "Just be quiet and listen."

"It's fine," said Byleth mildly, waving a hand as she made her way to her seat at the head of the table. "It's my fault for running late. I suppose I should bear the consequences."

Though normally she would've shared Felix's annoyance at Sylvain's running commentary, right now she couldn't bring herself to react. Since they'd come together at the monastery, Sylvain and Felix's relationship had grown closer before Byleth's eyes. Now it was hard to find one without the other, and the sight of them seated so close filled her with a sense of relief.

"Now that we're settled, may I ask something?" started Ingrid, her serious words cutting through the jovial mood. "I understand that Dimitri has decided we're to take Enbarr. Is there any way of avoiding facing Edelgard's army head on that he's discovered, or are we actually intending to attack on our own?"

"There's no need to discuss because we're not attacking Enbarr," snapped Byleth, the words quicker and more frustrated than than she'd intended. When the class went silent, quite a few sets of inquisitive eyes fixed on her, she sighed. "Apologies, I—I didn’t mean to snap, Ingrid. We’ve decided against taking Enbarr. I spoke with Dimitri last night, and he’s agreed that marching straight in is inadvisable. I plan to meet with Rodrigue later today to discuss alternate routes."

Sylvain whistled, impressed. "How'd you manage that one, professor? I'm sure it was hard to wheedle a full conversation out of Dimitri."

"I must admit, I'm curious as well," said Ashe, leaning forward on his elbows. "I've often found myself in awe of your persuasive talent, but this is truly remarkable."

Byleth’s face flushed, embarrassed by the implication in his words. No matter how innocent Ashe was, the idea of her _ persuasive talent _—and its potent effect on Dimitri—brought to mind the night before, and the soreness between her thighs only served as another persistent reminder of what had come to pass between them. “We simply exchanged words on the matter,” she said, trying to keep the humiliation from her voice. “Despite how he may seem, Dimitri is not impervious to reason. He understands just as well as the rest of us how risky such a move would be.”

“Of course,” said Mercedes, hands clasped together on the table. She exuded a dreamy wonder that spread to the rest of their classmates, who seemed relieved by this revelation. “Well, that’s wonderful news.”

“Very wonderful,” said Sylvain. His eyes were narrowed into suspicious slits, fixed on Byleth’s face as if he were trying to find the answer to some unvoiced question. “Very wonderful indeed, professor. In fact, unbelievably wonderful.” 

Felix shot him a questioning look, but Sylvain merely shook his head. 

_ Odd. _

Clearing her throat, Byleth pushed back the chair and rose, ready to begin the lecture. “With that in mind,” she said with finality, “let’s discuss the potential uses of archers for short-range armored units.”

By the time class was over a few hours later, Byleth was worn to the bone. She'd barely slept the night before, and teaching her students about battle tactics—no matter how clever and eager to learn they all were—was too draining to relax her anxious mind. To make matters worse, the moment she'd finished speaking Sylvain had bolted out the door, mumbling some excuse about a girl from the village as he rushed into the road. She'd waited fifteen minutes to field her students' questions, but the minute the seemingly endless flow of askers ceased Byleth swept her things into her satchel and strode out the door, intent on returning to her dorm for some much needed rest. Before she could get too far, however, she heard an all too familiar voice from around the corner, more serious than she'd encountered in recent memory.

"—irresponsible, dontcha think?" said Sylvain.

The first half of whatever he'd been saying was indiscernible from so far away, and though Byleth knew eavesdropping on her students' private lives was probably inadvisable, she stepped a little closer to the corner anyways, listening.

"I don't believe it's any of your business, Sylvain," came Dimitri's icy response. Startled, Byleth flinched back. Dimitri had left the cathedral? _Why?_ "I don't have time for this petty nonsense."

"Nah, I think it pretty much is," Sylvain shot back, deceptively casual. Only someone who'd been around him for as many months as Byleth could detect the anger boiling beneath his words, but to her it was as clear as day that he was furious. "I'm aware that my reputation precedes me. If it's anyone's business who's fucking who in the monastery, it's definitely mine."

Dimitri laughed, but the sound was bitter, devoid of any real humor. "Oh, is that so? Very well then. So what if I did? Does it particularly matter?"

"_Does it_—of course it matters!" said Sylvain, facade of nonchalance broken by incredulity. "Goddess, did you think—she's our fucking professor, Dimitri. Does that mean nothing to you? Do you not remember anything?"

"I certainly don't see why it should mean something to _you,_" said Dimitri cooly. "I'm going. Don't bother me again, or I won't hesitate to strike you down."

"Surely you don't think I'll just let you leave," hissed Sylvain, "if you potentially coerced our professor into—well. You know _exactly _why it means something to me."

At this Byleth rounded the corner, mouth set in a firm, grim line. "Good afternoon," she greeted, relishing in the twin looks of surprise on Sylvain and Dimitri's faces. "I heard mention of my name?"

"Professor," Sylvain began, hands help up unassumingly in front of him, "I didn't mean to interfere. But from your comments earlier, I thought—"

Byleth shook her head. "You thought wrong," she said, stepping out in front of Dimitri. She could feel his body heat behind her, burning into her skin through her cloak, but she paid no mind to it. There were bigger things at hand. "I understand your concern, Sylvain, but we're both adults. It was no business of yours to interfere, and certainlynot with such baseless accusations."

Sylvain stared, wide-eyed. "I didn't—professor, I hardly meant to—"

"I don't care," interrupted Dimitri, lip curled over in disgust. "I have no interest in dealing with these petty squabbles. No interference is necessary."

"It's not about you," said Byleth, eyes fixed on Sylvain even as she addressed the man standing behind her. "I am perfectly capable of defending myself, Sylvain. While appreciated, I can manage this situation on my own."

"I swear, I meant no harm by it," said Sylvain, looking between them. "As long as everything's fine on your front, it's fine on mine. I just wanted to make sure."

Dimitri scoffed, but added nothing. Byleth shot him a warning glance before turning back to Sylvain. "Thank you," she said. "I appreciate your concern, but truly, everything is fine."

"Yeah, I can see that much," said Sylvain, shaking his head in disbelief. "I'm gonna leave you to it, then. Til tomorrow, professor." With a halfhearted salute he walked out onto the road, leaving Dimitri and Byleth alone.

An awkward silence stretched out between them, until Byleth finally said, "Are you alright?"

"Why shouldn't I be?" said Dimitri, gaze finally meeting hers. "I don't care what Sylvain thinks of me."

"Do you care what I think of you?" asked Byleth, reaching out to clutch his hand. Dimitri shifted infinitesimally at the touch, but he didn't pull away. Emboldened by his acceptance, she grasped his hand tighter, holding it within her own. His pulse quickened under her thumb in response to her touch, confirming what she'd suspected all along.

_Dimitri really does want me._

Staring at their entwined fingers, Dimitri murmured, "Don't start something if you don't intend to follow through, professor."

"I intend to follow through," Byleth whispered. There was no shame in her words—she wanted Dimitri to know that she didn't regret it. More than that, she needed him to know that she craved more.

Dimitri's gaze lifted to meet hers, and his visible eye—pupils so large the blue of his irises was barely visible—brimmed with hunger.

Byleth swallowed, throat dry. "My quarters are empty," she managed, the pads of her fingers brushing over his bruised knuckles. "If, perchance, you were interested in—"

"Take me there," interrupted Dimitri, quickly and without room for contradiction. "Now."

The moment they arrived at her room and the door fell shut behind them, the thick tension between them snapped.

Dimitri hoisted Byleth up from her thighs and wrapped her legs around his waist, pressing the hard line of her back against the door. His roaming fingers dug into her soft skin, pressing into the echoes of the bruises he'd left the night before. Before he could take further action, Byleth kissed him hard, biting into his plush lower lip and slipping her tongue into his mouth. There was no hesitation, this time. Dimitri reciprocated instantly, eye squeezed shut as his hands cupped her ass and pulled her closer to him.

Byleth couldn't help the shaky exhale that escaped her when they parted, arching her back to press harder against his cock through her shorts. This was going to be faster than the last time, she could already tell; the room was almost too hot to bear, and the burning between her thighs needed some sort of release or she'd _burst._

"Dimitri," she muttered, letting her head rest on his chest, "take me to bed, please."

Dimitri's breath was unsteady and hot against the shell of her ear, but obligingly he carried her to the bed, setting her down on her back. From her place lying out on the duvet, Byleth could see the effects of her ministrations on his body—his flushed face, hair mussed up from her fingers, his heaving chest. Satisfied with what she saw, Byleth looked up at him from beneath her lashes and smiled. 

”I’m ready if you are,” she teased, sprawling out on the duvet.

Unbothered by her amusement, Dimitri shed his own coat and peeled off his shirt, letting them fall to the floor. Byleth unbuttoned her shorts and slid them down, then trailed her hands up to her shirt and pulled it off, slipping her tights off for good measure and tossing the discarded garments onto the floor when she was done.

Dimitri sat back down onto the bed and settled between her spread legs, kissing the inside of her knee with uncharacteristic softness, and Byleth's breath hitched in her throat. Lips searing, he trailed hot kisses up to the seam of her inner thigh and sucked a bruise into the tender skin there, sharp teeth eliciting sharp sigh from Byleth. Threading her hands in his hair, she pushed him down, and let out a breathy moan when his tongue teased her slit.

”Goddess,” groaned Byleth, fingers tightening around the spools of hair she’d grabbed. “Ah, don’t stop—Dimitri, that feels so good.”

Dimitri lapped harder, tongue delving into her folds. His pace was relentless, unforgiving, and his tongue was hot and steady. The broad strokes were bringing Byleth close—dangerously close—so despite how much she wanted him to continue she pulled him off.

”Fuck me,” she whimpered, spreading her legs further to accommodate his large frame. “I can’t wait anymore, I need you now—please, I—”

Silencing her with a rough kiss, Dimitri unbuttoned his own trousers, pulling his cock out. His muscled arms framed her shoulders as he buried his cock into her heat, head tipped back in an overwhelmed sort of desire. When he was fully seated, hips pressed against Byleth's ass, they stared at each other for a moment through half lidded eyes.

”Byleth,” mumbled Dimitri into her mouth, before sealing the gap between their lips.

He rocked into her slowly, moving his mouth against hers to match the rhythm of his pumping hips. Dimitri was trying to regulate his body's tempo, but it was obviously a struggle; with each push forward he lost a little bit of composure as they worked each other to climax. His hands clutched at her breasts, pinching her swollen nipples and cupping them, and the feel of his callused skin sent pleasurable shivers down her spine. Before long he sped up, thrusting with increasingly less precision with each passing minute. Byleth hid her flushed face in the crook of his neck, digging her teeth into his collarbone as his index finger rubbed at her clit in rapid, sloppy circles. She was getting close, too—the heat boiling in her belly was reaching a fever pitch, and red blotches spread across her abdomen.

Hanging her head and biting down onto her lip so hard it bled, Byleth’s walls tightened around Dimitri as she came with a shout. It felt so good, like all the muscles in her body had suddenly tensed and just as quickly released, and exhaustion was already setting upon her. But the job wasn't finished yet—Dimitri had stilled, but his dick was throbbing inside her.

“Come, Dimitri," she panted, urging him on. "I’m yours to use as you please.”

Dimitri grunted and squeezed her breast one last time, and then he was tumbling over the edge too, spilling inside of her again.

They waited for a while, breath mingling, before Dimitri pulled out and flopped onto his back beside her. Though he looked like he wanted to say something his eye was slipping shut, and he seemed exhausted beyond the point of rational conversation. Byleth, too, was suffering the effects of sleepless night, a day of teaching, and another encounter with Dimitri—tired would be a mild word to describe how she was feeling. Evidently, there were many words that needed to be exchanged, but at that precise moment neither of them particularly wanted to say anything. Byleth yawned and rested her head on Dimitri's naked chest, and Dimitri, wrapping an arm around her waist, pulled her closer. His chest was so warm against her back, and Byleth couldn't resist snuggling into the comfortable heat of his body.

_There will be plenty of time to discuss what happened come morning_, she decided, already drifting off to sleep.

For now, it was time to leave the situation to thaw.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sup sinners. welcome to hell. join me:,)
> 
> uhhh my [twitter](https://twitter.com/bombshellbrune) is here if u want to scream about dimileth with or at me bc i feel that!! anyway see yall soon:)
> 
> (dont ask me for a sequel bc i will cry;;; i cant write another one i'm a busy man)

**Author's Note:**

> can u tell how much i love them bc... wrow. drop a kudos and a comment if you liked this fic- i love love love reading what people think, it makes my day sm better every time


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